Gone Midnight
by VeiledShadow
Summary: It’s gone midnight, and Rose isn’t feeling well. The TARDIS leads her to him. But for somebody who is known as the 'Doctor', he's not too brilliant at living up to the role. Or is he? 10Rose fluff.


**Title:** Gone Midnight  
**Author:** veiledshadow  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Disclaimer:** No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this story. It all belongs to the BBC, hail the BBC gets down on knees  
**Status:** Finished  
**Summary:** _'Rose?' He said, raising his voice slightly so she slammed the current cabinet door shut with such force the TARDIS rattled angrily._

'What?' She snapped, reeling around, startling him so his brown orbs went as round as saucers.

**N/A:** This was written _ages_ ago, right at the beginning of my Who obsession. As a consequence, it is very evident that it is my first Who fic, but I decided to amend the ending which has always been waiting for another chapter and repost it here, because I got a lot of reviews before. Anyway, yeh, reviews are love

**Gone Midnight**

An amused outburst swirled in an echo around the corridors from the kitchen, breaking the routine hum of the TARDIS. The metal grating leading to the room shook gently, mimicking the emotion of the ships owner, who was sat by the kitchen table, feet resting upon its surface, whilst balancing relaxingly on two legs of a four legged chair. His wild brown hair was standing erratically from his head, due to the fact long fingers kept continuously running through it every time he proceeded to chuckle, which was becoming more and more frequent as he continued to read.

Letting out yet another entertained smirk with mocha eyes sparkling, he threw the book he had been reading onto the table in order to lean forward and take a sip of tea. His companion Rose had headed for bed over an hour ago and becoming rather bored, the Doctor had decided to extinguish his hunger with a slice of toast. This was soon accompanied with a hot cup of tea, something Jackie would have been proud of, and a book he'd found in the TARDIS's library called 'Our Universe'. This 'knowledgeable' writer, who came from planet earth, had been the supplier of keeping him happily thrilled for the past 60 minutes. Humans really hadn't a clue sometimes, and their ludicrous theories hadn't made him frown once.

As the Doctor took another gulp of tea, the loud entrance of his companion Rose disturbed his thoughts. He smiled as she ignored him completely and headed to the nearest cabinet, wrenching it open. She was wearing her teddy bear pyjamas again; the items of clothing that were probably the baggiest and oldest pieces of material he had ever seen her wear. The bottoms were so long you could only just see 5 toes peaking out of each trouser leg, and the waistband hung so low on her hips the Doctor found it a miracle that they did not fall down. In fact, it was a miracle he was exceedingly thankful for; he didn't think he could cope if they happen to slip. A lump had started to form in his throat at the thought, and he coughed quickly to try and remove it. The Doctor usually had vast control over his body, but since Rose had arrived, he was getting into an unremitting routine of taking more cold showers then usual. It was not hard 

to guess why.

Clearing his throat once again, he tried to shake all of those particular thoughts away into the back of his mind.

'I thought you'd gone to sleep?' He asked enquiringly, acknowledging the fact it was gone midnight as he took off his rectangular, black-framed glasses and closed them with a sharp snap, before tucking them away in his suit pocket.

He watched her ignore his presence yet again; as she closed the cabinet she had been searching with a loud bang, and yank open the one parallel to it with even more force.

'Rose?' He asked raising his voice slightly, which only concluded in her slamming the cabinet door shut with such force the TARDIS rattled angrily.

'What?' She snapped.

Reeling around, she startled him so much his brown orbs went as round as saucers. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but her usually bright eyes had turned dark and piercing, so he slowly closed his jaw, letting out a slight wince. It was only minor, but she saw it. She always saw it with him. She groaned, guilt immediately flooding her senses as she slapped a hand to her forehead.

'I'm sorry,' she apologised.

The harsh tone still remained in her voice and she noticed immediately as his eyebrows knotted together in a minute frown. This time she let her features relax and the dark cloud of swirling anger in her eyes subsided marginally.

'I'm sorry,' she murmured again. Sincerely this time. 'I can't sleep; I didn't mean to take it out on you.'

Rose sent him a weak smile, which barely resulted in a turn of the lips. He exhaled slowly, eyes following her every movement as she again continued to search through the cupboards but in a less angered fashion. The frown upon his brow tightened, this was not right. She was not right. The Doctor wasn't afraid of Daleks, Cybermen or anything of the sort, but by God he wasn't half terrified of an angered Rose…and her mother. Oh God her mother! He shuddered considerably at the thought. Yes, Jackie had definitely passed that characteristic onto her daughter, no question about it.

'Good book?'

Her voice that drifted out of one of the cabinets, held a weary, metal edge to it, something he didn't like at all.

He shook his head clearing his concern before she detected it, as she turned to face him. He let out a huge grin, hoping it would be returned with the same enthusiasm.  


'For its knowledge on the universe? Terrible!' He exclaimed in answer to her question, proceeding to sit upright in his chair with all four wooden legs on the floor. 'You humans know codswallop!'

He paused, his smile broadening further at the realisation that he had just invented a new word.

'Codswallop?' He questioned out loud, inquiring his brain, only to see Rose let out a hard sigh, and continue her searching, her back turned. 'Must use that more often,' he muttered to himself before continuing louder. 'But the book for comic value? Priceless!'

He let out another of those huge, mad grins.

'It really is fantastic,' he continued, 'Haven't had such a good laugh in ages, you won't believe what some of you apes reckon about supernovas, it's hysterical, and I'll tell you what…'

He was interrupted by a small, frustrated scream. He immediately stopped rambling; his face suddenly containing a startled yet confused expression, which mainly consisted once again of wide eyes, a slightly scrunched up nose and a deep frown.

'Rose?' He asked, completely bewildered as he watched her tug frustrated at clumps of her messy, blonde hair, her elbows sticking into the air above her head. 'What exactly are you looking for?'

She averted her gaze to him, her expression turning to one of anger to a completely defeated look. Her make up, had smudged messily down her usually rosy cheeks, as she had obviously not cared to remove it from her features before bed.

'Medicine,' she grumbled. 'I need medicine.'

'What you looking in here for?' He laughed, wondering what sane living creature would look in a kitchen for drugs when there was a med lab on the ship.

'I dunno,' she replied quietly, 'mum keeps 'em in the kitchen.'

She gave a sheepish smile that the Doctor immediately returned, relieved that she was not glaring, although he couldn't help but note that the gesture did not reach her eyes.

'Why do you want some anyway?' He asked, suddenly concerned as she shut her eyes with a sharp gasp and leaned against the TARDIS for support, which hummed comfortingly.

He got up from his chair worry swimming in his expression. As he moved into the brighter light towards her it abruptly hit him as she sunk into his line of gaze, that she looked dreadful. He'd never seen her skin so pale; in fact she was almost as white as snow. Her usually bright eyes were bloodshot when they flickered back open due to lack of sleep, and the huge rings under her brown eyes mimicked those of deep, purple bruises.  


'Rose?' He murmured in shock, brushing a strand of blonde hair that had fell across her face with his hand. She welcomed the touch, letting out a gentle sigh, but the Doctor jumped away in alarm. 'Rassilon Rose, you're boiling!'

'I feel a bit ill,' she croaked whilst swaying dangerously. He hastily grabbed onto her shoulders to keep her upright. He raised his eyebrows into a high arc before pulling her to his chest, letting her head bury into his shoulder.

'Fine, a lot ill,' she admitted groggily, 'I think it was that Gallifreyan food you made yesterday'.

'It was _not_ the Gallifreyan food!' He protested defensively, holding her abruptly out at arm length, to which she groaned audibly at the extensive movement. 'It's good for you, better then piles of chocolate!'

'Don't,' she begged weakly as a wave of nausea hit her at the thought and her stomach turned. 'I think my bodies rejecting it.'

He ignored her, still in full swing.

'Better then mountains of jelly, and heaps of ice cream!'

'Doctor,' she moaned faintly, 'Stop it!'

She frantically tried to bury her head into his shoulder to cover up the suggestions he was making, but he still held her at arm length, despite her complaint.

'Viennese swirls, Victoria sponge, gateaux, brie, soufflé, twirls, candy floss, apple and blackberry pie with cream…!'

An unfamiliar flow of sickness flew up Rose's throat and she flung a hand to her mouth in distress. Releasing a panicking whimper she urgently escaped from his grasp, and he watched her as she fled to the bathroom without further hesitation.

There was a slight pause as the Doctor stood rooted to the floor, eyes wide and hands shoved deep into the pockets of his suit jacket. Walking over to the counter he opened the Gallifreyan cookery book and opened it to the recipe he had used, his finger pausing just below the sentence, 'Not suitable for humans.'

'Ah,' he muttered before running out the door and towards the sound of wretching.


End file.
